Mountain Mare (14 page)

Sam stared at the slip of paper. Who could it have been?

“Well, you sound a little—distracted, Samantha, so I'll talk with you later, shall I? Perhaps we can still work something out with another horse.”

“That would be great,” Sam said, with more enthusiasm than she'd felt during the entire conversation. “Thanks so much.”

Sam hung up. She turned, ready to stay calm until she'd explained everything to Gram. But when she saw that Gram had already gone upstairs, Sam exploded.

“He's mine!” she shouted at Cougar as the cat started into the kitchen for food. Hungry or not, he was too afraid of his suddenly crazed mistress to do anything besides spin around and sprint for the stairs.

She had to hug Ace.

She had to tell her horse that contrary to everything
she'd ever told him, sometimes there was a reward for bad behavior!

Sam straight-armed the screen door and burst into the ranch yard. A late scratching hen fluttered clucking out of the way as Sam sprinted toward the pasture.

“Ace!” Sam yelled. “Ace! You're not going anyplace, you wild bronco!”

She didn't care who heard or how silly she looked! It hadn't been their last ride together after all.

Grazing horses tossed up their heads and pricked their ears in her direction.

“Ace, you're staying, you bad boy!” she bellowed, and Strawberry's snort started a stampede away from the gate. As hooves retreated to the far end of the pasture, only Ace remained. Swishing his tail and tilting his head to one side, he regarded Sam as if he understood.

“Ace,” Sam whispered as the mustang took three quiet steps to the gate and hung his head over so that she could kiss his nose. “Ace, I love you.”

“What
is
all this?” Dad yelled, but Sam didn't turn. “Honey, are you crying?”

“What's wrong, Sam?” Brynna's voice was tender as her arm circled Sam's shoulders.

Sam swallowed hard, trying to hold back the flood of tears that threatened to follow the first few. When she looked up and saw Dad, the tears stopped.

“What happened to you?” she sniffed.

Dad was coated with mud. Even his face was black with it, except for the places he'd cleared around his eyes and mouth.

“Irrigation problems, but what's this about Ace staying? Where the heck did he think he was going to go?”

“I was going to sell him,” Sam admitted. “I had an offer for three thousand dollars, exactly what you needed to deposit on a new truck, and—”

“And when were you going to talk to me about that?” Dad demanded.

It was hard to take him seriously because he was smeared in mud, but all at once Sam remembered telling Diana that she should talk to her father because he was involved in her decision. Taking her own advice had never occurred to her.

“It was going to be a surprise?” Sam asked, sniffing again.

“I don't think so,” Dad said. As he gave his head a quick shake, a bit of mud splatted to the ground. “Ace is my horse and he's not for sale.”

Brynna's arm left Sam's shoulder and she threw both her arms around Wyatt for a hug.

“You're crazy,” Sam said, looking at the mess Brynna had made of her white blouse.

“Well, I'm hungry,” Dad said, smiling as he strode toward the house. “And as soon as I clean up, I'm going to see what your Gram has for dinner.”

“Uh, Gram's in the shower and she said it was too
hot to cook dinner,” Sam said when they'd almost reached the porch.

Dad didn't have time to react before Gram called out.

“Samantha Anne Forster—”

Gram stood in the doorway, wearing a bath towel and a shower cap.

“Wyatt, Brynna,” Gram said, spotting them. “The strangest thing has happened.”

Dad and Brynna looked at each other as if they'd keep their opinions to themselves about strange things, but Gram kept talking.

“I'd just stepped into the shower and the telephone began ringing. It kept ringing and since it was clear no one else would answer it, I stormed down the stairs and who should it be but someone asking me if I was the legal guardian of Samantha Forster.”

Sam flinched a little. What could that be about?

“And of course I thought, ‘Lands, what has that child done now?' but I said ‘yes.' And then she asked did I know Samantha had entered a contest at the rodeo. And I said it didn't surprise me, and then she started prattling on, telling me that if you win a vehicle you still had to pay tax and license because that wasn't included and—” Gram paused for a breath. “I'm afraid that was the stage at which I actually shouted at the poor dear to get to the point because I was making a huge puddle in the middle of my kitchen floor and well—Wyatt, Brynna, it seems
that Samantha has won us a brand-new truck!”

“Yay!” Brynna shouted, then bulldogged Sam in a hug that smeared
her
with mud, too.

“Well, I'll be!” Dad said as a white grin showed through the mud on his face. “I say this calls for a celebration—of losin' three thousand dollars and winning the first new truck I've ever had in my whole life!”

As everyone cheered and made quick plans to drive to Clara's coffee shop for a celebratory dinner, Sam couldn't resist a detour back to the pasture. She had to give Ace one last hug.

Her arms were wrapped around his warm brown neck when Dad appeared beside her.

“Honey,” he said, “that money mighta helped out, and the truck certainly will, but no matter what happens, that horse is yours for the rest of his life, and I'll hear no argument about it. Ever.”

And Sam said, “Okay.”

Cover art © 2005 by Greg Call